Emma Martin
Stories (4/0)
Colors
His name was Azure. He was named after his eyes, for when he first opened them they were the most vibrant shade of blue ever seen on a child. People used to crowd around his crib chattering and chittering like birds; they would foolishly exclaim that they put the sky to shame even on its bluest day. He was often found sitting in solitude, mostly in places where he could watch the world bend and break underneath the pressure of man’s weight. In school, he always sat by the window, regardless of the seat his teacher’s assigned. His classmates would watch him in awe, whispering to each other that if one looked close enough they could watch his thoughts form underneath the mop of mahogany that grew on his head and then marvel as the thoughts danced out of his ears. On days that had peculiarly fluffy clouds, they would say that they were full of Azure’s thoughts. People adored his laidback personality, one felt calm when they were by his side. If someone were to interrupt his thoughts, he would greet them with a friendly smile. Outwardly, he was as calm as the surface of a river on a windless day, but he held so many emotions inside of his ever-thoughtful mind. Such emotions remained secure within his person until he met her: his sun and moon.
By Emma Martin4 years ago in Humans
Solitary Senses
The stars twinkle, winking at me as our spaceship floats by. I gaze at the celestial creations surrounding us as they form constellations unseen. A trip to the moon on a Thursday... or is it Sunday? Who knows, time is different here. The soft echo of Jacob’s boots on the spaceship floor is calming, and I marvel at the concept of sound in space.
By Emma Martin4 years ago in Futurism